It was supposed to be a casual game, but the Long March dungeon brought tears to everyone's eye

Shanghai, the top floor of Tencent.

"Can anyone explain what this purplish-red straight line is all about?"

Operations Director Wang Qi pointed to the popularity curve of "Red Expedition," his voice suppressing his rage.

"Our 'Starry Sea Hegemony' has an investment of 300 million yuan, endorsements from three film stars, and extensive online promotion."

"And they ended up getting utterly humiliated by a makeshift operation whose studio address can't even be found online?"

Inside the meeting room, Tencent's top planners remained silent until someone spoke up.

"Mr. Wang, this is essentially an emotional scam."

"This game sells 'masochism' and 'grotesqueness,' exploiting players' rebellious psychology after they've grown tired of casual games."

"Players cry because they feel abused; it's a low-level dopamine stimulation."

"That's right." The lead artist chimed in, pointing to the ragged NPC on the screen, "The modeling is all garbage from generic libraries, and the lighting and shadows are also default."

"The only highlight is that the pain system is made disgusting enough."

Wang Qi sneered, "I don't care what you say, just take it as a lesson!"

"Project codenamed 'Winter,' to launch within a week!"

"Let them suffer first, then revel; let them see what mature business logic truly is!"

"Borrowing" and "tricking people into spending money" are Tencent's specialties!

……

The influence of "Red Expedition" is burning through the barrier between the virtual and the real world like wildfire.

Inside a police station, a rebellious teenager with dyed yellow hair pointed at Crazy Brother's live stream and spoke earnestly to the police.

"Uncle, I shaved my head."

"Compared to the old squad leader, I used to be a useless brat who hadn't been weaned. I don't want to disappoint him."

At the dinner table, a girl who had never eaten carbohydrates before, while trying to lose weight, ate two large bowls of white rice with tears in her eyes.

"Mom, even the old sergeant and the others didn't get to eat their belts, I can't waste food."

These seemingly absurd social news stories finally alarmed the Dragon Kingdom Cultural Bureau.

Qin Zhenguo, a retired cadre, was sitting in a rattan chair, staring at his grandson's tablet computer through his reading glasses.

On the screen, the one-armed old sergeant is using a straw rope to lead the blind Ruan Ruan, moving step by step along the edge of the cliff; Kuang Ge carries that huge black pot on his back, living his life as a monument in the wind and snow.

And then there's the ice sculpture standing at an altitude of 4000 meters, its charging posture preserved until its death.

Qin Zhenguo's hands began to tremble violently, and his old eyes filled with turbid tears.

The blurry faces of the NPCs gradually overlapped with the faces of his comrades who had sacrificed themselves in the mud, deep in his memory.

"Grandpa, this game is too cruel. The developers are sending out death threats every day..." the grandson muttered to himself.

"shut up."

Qin Zhenguo suddenly straightened his back.

In that instant, he felt as if he had returned to the battlefield of yesteryear.

"This is not a game."

The old man shakily raised his hand and touched the black pot through the screen.

"This is... a soul."

That afternoon, an article by a special commentator named "Qin Zhenguo" appeared on the homepage of the official media of China and was pinned to the top of the entire network—"Searching for our lost backbone in the virtual snowstorm."

The article is short, but every word carries immense weight.

"In this era of material abundance but spiritual poverty, we worship capital and traffic."

"I'm glad to see someone willing to lead young people through a virtual snowstorm to find that spine that is softening."

"That hurts, that's very painful."

"But that will allow us to stand up straight again."

This comment instantly stirred up a huge wave of discussion.

Although it wasn't explicitly stated, everyone knew who it was referring to.

This is tantamount to the official authorities giving "Red Expedition" a "cultural talisman".

Those trolls and media outlets who originally wanted to attack the game on the grounds of "bloody violence" and "distorted values" immediately fell silent.

Just kidding, attacking a game that's officially described as "finding the backbone"?

That's like having too much of a life!

Luo An stared at the comment for a long time without saying a word.

It's surprising that this level of attention has been drawn so early.

However, this is a good thing. His mood value has surged again, and he can finally redeem some of the features he wants to unlock.

[Old Squad Leader - Deep Memory Retrieval Fragment (Daughter's Edition) successfully redeemed!]

[Description: Unlock the NPC's deepest memories and emotional logic, transforming him from merely an AI with behavioral patterns into a "projection" with a complete past and future. He will truly "remember" his daughter's smiling face, and he will truly "crave" that bowl of meat noodles that never existed.]

[Pain Resonance System (Beginner) successfully redeemed!]

Luo An's gaze fell upon the team in the game struggling through the snowstorm.

The summit of the snow-capped mountain is right before our eyes.

……

The higher the altitude, the thinner the air.

The march of the troops was as slow as a snail's pace.

Everyone feels that their lungs are like a bellows with a hole, and no matter how hard they try to breathe, they can't get in enough oxygen.

The old squad leader walked at the very back of the group, his steps becoming unsteady.

The arm hung limply at its side, and the fabric of the tattered cotton-padded jacket covering the wound was soaked through with a dark liquid.

That was... rotten blood.

As the altitude increased and the air pressure decreased, the wound he had been suppressing with sheer willpower completely ruptured.

Bacterial infection, coupled with intense physical exertion, finally took its toll on the veteran squad leader's body.

Waves of scorching heat and bone-chilling cold alternated and collided within the old squad leader's body.

He started to have a high fever.

The old squad leader gritted his teeth, not wanting anyone to find out.

He didn't want to be a burden to the team.

He lagged a few steps behind, secretly grabbed a handful of snow, and haphazardly wiped away the black blood seeping from his wound.

The cold snow provided some relief from the burning pain of the wound.

But this is just a short-sighted solution.

Hawkeye, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped.

He frowned and sniffed the air.

A faint, rotten smell wafted in the wind.

Hawkeye turned around abruptly, his gaze locking onto the old sergeant walking at the back of the line.

And in the snow beneath the old squad leader's feet, there were a few unusual, dark red and black bloodstains.

Hawkeye's pupils contracted, and he rushed back in one stride, ignoring the old sergeant's attempts to stop him, and grabbed his severed arm.

It was scalding hot to the touch!

"Class monitor! You have a fever!"

Hawkeye exclaimed in surprise, his voice changing tone.

He yanked open the old squad leader's cotton-padded coat, exposing the horrific wound to the air.

The entire cross-section of the severed arm had turned completely black, with the surrounding flesh turned inside out and oozing foul-smelling pus and blood.

"Holy shit!"

When the madman who had followed saw this scene, he felt his scalp tingle.

How did the old squad leader, injured like this, lead them here without uttering a sound?

"fine."

The old squad leader pushed Eagle Eye away, trying to cover himself with the cotton-padded coat again, but his voice was weak, like a candle flickering in the wind.

"It's an old problem... I'll be fine after a rest."

"You go first, I... I'll catch up later."